The Dawn Bringer
by Razorblade91st
Summary: A fan-fiction based on Skyrim , with some references about the Dawnguard DLC. The basic concept is the diminishing power of vampires and the journey for the vampires who wish to rid themselves on vampirism. I will publish chapters as often as possible, and I hope you enjoy.
1. Prologue

**This is my new fan-fiction based around Skyrim and the Dawnguard DLC. I will be adding/publishing chapters gradually, so check back to continue to story. Any part in just bold will be my comments (such as what you're reading now), and I hope you enjoy reading it.**

**Thank you, the Author.**

**Prologue**

The air was cold, and the mood colder. The air seemed to whisper its sadness to the flickering lamps as it gently blew past. A town hidden away in Skyrim seemed to be bustling tonight: around the wooden platform beckoning away from the water, a crowd gathered. The temperature meant the people were well clothed, but it was only autumn and yet tonight was the first night like this: almost unbearably cold. The guards had swapped their usual protective armour for warmer clothes, and no one seemed to care – it was too cold to care.

The bustling was loud, and the animals had led to the quiet forest or the edges of the town, but now they had also fled the south end to, and through the mist and snow appeared a hooded figure, encased with leather and fur, with a strap across his chest, gloves on his hands, and a bag swaying at his side. The hood covered his eyes and hair, but the bottom of his face revealed that he was pale, like the ice he walked on. His steps echoed and reached the ears of the animals, but the crowd seemed not to notice. He was young too, only in his teen years, and it was strange that he was entering the town by himself on this kind of night. He approached the centre of the town, and as he did, a man stepped on to the platform.

The man raised his head, and glared around the mass of bodies. His eyes beckoned their attention, and they answered with uninterrupted devotion. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen." His voice was soft and gentle: it gave him an aura of trust. His eyes were warm, and his skin looked cold. He continued, "I'm sorry to have asked you to gather on such a night, but I had no choice. You are in danger. You, your families, your town, and everything else you hold dear - it is all in peril." The words spread through the crowd, now seemingly tranced at the man's voice, and all looking at his warm eyes. "You are in danger from yourselves. The human race is weak: it is prone to corruption and deceit and misfortune. I am sorry, but we must fix the problem. Your peace will come quickly, and may you rest in Sovngarde."

Men in the crowd drew their swords and removed their hoods to reveal their vampiric skin underneath: pale and cold. The guards were motionless, so too were the men, women and children in the crowd, all fixed on the eyes of that one man. The massacre began. As they hacked and slashed their way through the Nordic people, they feasted, and feasted quickly.

The young, hooded man had walked around the crowd already and had almost reached a light - a final structure before he could dash to the platform. His eyes remained covered, avoiding the magic of the man. His footsteps grew lighter, and quicker; his strides grew shorter, and his knees seemed to bend even more. The town's people continued to stand motionless as they were cruelly cut down by the vampires. Behind the man who had spoken, another had begun to raise a banner: a long, blood red flag with a black emblem sewn on – but the light was too low to make it out.

The speaker had seemed completely off-guard, and unaware of the approaching hooded man. He seemed unaware until the moment were the ash-wood stake had pierced his heart and remained there in his body, and his eyes and mouthed dropped, so too did the other vampires while the last of the town's folk perished, but now they had noticed. The hooded man dashed off the platform and towards a cliff. He was uninterrupted until the vampires manage to catch up to him and confronted the man, leading him to draw another stake and stab through the legions of vampires, turning many into just ash piles being blown by the now stronger winds.

The hooded man had reached the cliff, and looked at the unexpected shear face in front of him. He turned to the gathering of armed men behind him, and lit a torch he had held on his back. Behind the vampires was pitch black – a real night in Skyrim, and the torched illuminated only their face. The man threw the torch into the mob, and scurried up the cliff, where the full and bloated vampires could no longer follow.

He reached the top without trouble; the vampires remained below, and he looked back at the town. The lights had all blown out, and all he could see was the glistening of the vampire's yellow eyes from the slight lingering lunar light. But one pair seemed to be brighter, bloodier, and somehow even more evil. Cassius Artora stared at those eyes; he would never forget them.


	2. Chapter 1 - Dawn

**Chapter 1 – Dawn**

The sun glanced inside the wood and stone barn as it rose over the trees in the distance and lit up the surrounding meadow grass. Near the entranced lay three bodies, all young Nord men. Two of the bodies were bloody all over, their skin was shredded into pieces and their faces would be barely recognisable to their closest kin. The final body had some blood around his neck and a crossbow bolt in his back, his face was that of a labourer, rough, and his slight stubble showed his youth. Further into the barn was a small cart, piled on top of it was a stack of fresh hay, which obscured the view further back into the barn. On all of the walls, apart from the entrance, were large bays with piles of straw, and in the furthest bay sat a body, hidden in the shadows.

The body stretched its arms, wiped its mouth and lay back in the straw behind it. It sighed deeply and closed its eyes slowly, but soon opened them again at the sound of approaching footsteps. Its pupils looked to the roof of the barn, and then shot towards the sound of a figure in the entrance. It was not visible and could be anyone, or anything. The body did not seem nervous, but more surprised at what was happening.

The figure in the door way stepped forward, and the light now hit his face. It was shallow and wrinkled; all his skin seemed dry and rugged. The man was old; a man who had lived his life labouring and now seemed more peaceful in his posture and the way his eyes seamlessly looked around the bodies without shock or remorse. He crouched down and inspected one body's neck; the man froze and glanced around the barn, and then he announced his presence. "Are you still here?" The man's voice was harsh and commanding, that of a man used to power, and that of a man who knew the power of fear. It was also the voice of a true Nord, one born and raised in the wilds of Skyrim. There was no reply. "Are you still here?" The man asked again; he seemed calmer now and his muscles seemed more relaxed. The man stood up and the body opened its mouth.

"Yes", the body answered the question and the man jumped back in surprise and fear. The man turned and reached for a pitchfork next to a pile of hay: he grasped it tightly and raised it in front of him, and then further to head-height. "I am sorry for the inconvenience," the voice was very relaxed and seemed more civilised, "but they had to die". The body stood up and peered over the cart, but the man did not notice. "You look puzzled." The man jumped back, almost out of the barn; he now knew that he was being watched, and he didn't like it. The voice was disembodied to the man, and the echo made it hard to find the source. It continued, "These men were sons of Hircine, and wished to do harm to the people in this area. If you would like to know why they wanted to do that…" The voice paused, leading the man to inspect the area around him. "You would have to ask their father, wouldn't you? Now more importantly, I'll be leaving and let you deal with these beasts."

The man jumped back into the entrance and swung his pitchfork to block anything getting past. The body got up and worked around the cart, allowing the young morning light to show him. He was young, quite tall and slim, and the only skin visible was that around his eyes, but they were of a man much older than himself. He stood encased in dark leather, with a hood over his hair, and had extra protection from metal plates (dark with a blood red trim) dotted around his body. A belt wrapped his waist, and two straps ran from his right shoulder down to his left side. On his back hung a quiver full of crossbow bolts, but no crossbow was in sight. Around his waist was a small leather bag, and two reinforced scabbards; one was of a sword with a beautiful silver and gold guard and pommel, with a dark wood for the hilt; the other held a dagger, with a similar design, but only using silver and a lighter wood for the visible portion of it. "My name is Cassius. I mean you no harm; I only wish to see a plague washed from Nirn."

The old man stared at his eyes, and the other stared back. The old man sensed the sincerity in Cassius' voice, but he didn't trust him anymore than he did before. "Alright then. You can go. You don't seem like the others." Cassius' face questioned him, but the man turned and walked out of the barn, still holding his protective pitchfork. Cassius stood motionless until he had thought of what to say, but that wasn't well thought out anyway. He expected something, but the old man told him differently; that didn't mean he could reveal anything to man. Cassius burst out of the barn and turned the way the man had gone. "Wait what do you mean? What 'others'?" Cassius emphasised his final word, and prepared to listen intently to the man.

The old man turned around. His lower lip wobbled and, with a deep breath, he held back tears. As he began to speak, Cassius slowly crept toward him, trying not to frighten or intimidate the man. The man was verging towards crying when he began. "They took them. Why did they take them?" He sighed. "A couple of weeks ago, my grandchildren were taken. All we found were shreds of their clothes and hair. It was your kind, I know it was. A few nights before, a friend was telling about the rumours that were surfacing… and then they took them." He moved his head into his hands, and took a breath. He drew more courage and continued. "Their father died in the war, and so my daughter brought them her to us to take care of them. She lives here too, the farm house, over there." He gestured behind him. "We can't even bury them. They can't go to Sovngarde without that." The man dropped to the ground, and threw the pitchfork away from him. "They were so young."

Cassius raised his hands to his hips, and kicked a pebble from under his boot. He stared at the ground and then looked pitifully at the man. "I will bring them back to you, and I will rid this place of their attackers. I will not stop until they rest peacefully. I just need to know your name." Cassius wanted to help, but his true motive was the vampires themselves. The man responded: "It's Hodlin".

Cassius turned away from him, back towards the barn. He looked past it: the rolling fields hit a cliff, and on top was a thick wall. A city seemed to occupy the top, and Cassius knew where the first place he would need to go was. He began walking westward, past the barn, toward Whiterun.


	3. Chapter 2 - A Meeting In Whiterun

**Chapter 2 – A Meeting in Whiterun**

In the once-proud city of Whiterun, the people were blissfully going about their daily business. The weather was normal for that area: cloudy, with a shivering breeze that sometimes blew through the lower districts of the city, over the walls, and away again. The building warmth gleamed in their windows, but the people were used to it, and just got on with their lives, as if the sun shone brightly on Whiterun's dark walls.

Just like every day, Olava sat in front of her house, peacefully on an old wooden bench, she seemed happier than usual: more youthful, but more terrified too, as if she looked forward to something today, but feared it too.

A guard rounded the corner, and walked past Olava without a second glance; she did not notice. He reached the wall, looked over it, and walked away again. He was out of sight, and Olava was thankful for it – she didn't want anyone to see who she was waiting for. The tell-tale Whiterun breeze blow through once again, followed by a dark figure cloaked in leather who gently sat next to the old woman. "Hello again, my dear."

Olava smiled, raised her head, and glanced around. She saw no one, and determined no treats. She was happy to speak: "I've missed you." The city was populated with many people, but the two sat next to each other evolved their own world. The wind picked up, and the area around them filled with emptiness

Her companion lifted his eyes and sat back. "How long has it been, now?" He paused. His voice had a hint of a taunt, but also of a comfortable closeness to the woman he spoke to. "How many years?"

She quickly jumped to answer, "Forty-Three! Forty-three years." Her voice was excited, but quickly turned sour. There was a moments silence while the two people thought of what they could say. The wind howled, the man's hood shook and Olava's hair blew. The man began talking, "Unfortunately, my dear, I cannot sit and talk all day. I'm here for some information… and my… er… delivery." He hesitated to say his exact meaning, afraid someone could be listening.

Olava replied, "Fine, Cassius. There's a new funeral furnace in town: it takes the body of the family to have it 'sent to Sovngarde'. I have no idea where they put the bodies, but I've never seen a single one after it has been given to them. As for your 'delivery', it's at the back." She nodded behind her, and Cassius' head stared in that direction. He got up walked over to a dark wooden crate; half concealed by the house, and lifted the lid. He reached inside with his hand and felt around. He lifted out a small, basic looking crossbow, placing it on his back. The wind blew, and Cassias disappeared.


	4. Chapter 3 - A Dark Discovery

**Chapter 3 – A Dark Discovery**

A crisp and cold air filled Cassius' lungs as he took another breath tonight. The moon had risen high, and showed him that he had sat in the same spot on the wet roof for hours: his eyes firmly trained on a funeral service's building. There were few clouds, but those that drifted high above the city where heading away from the towering Throat of the World. A thin mist sat on the roofs too, concealing Cassius away from the guards' watchful eyes.

He had sat barely moving for hours, and nothing had happened, the closest thing to action he had experience there was shooing away an inquisitive pigeon. The lights in the building were still bright though, but the windows there dimmed, concealing the inside from Cassius. He looked out onto the surrounding plains, filled with creatures and travellers alike. A wolf howled, and Cassius' eyes moved back to the funeral service.

The lights inside flickered and a figure appeared at the side of the building, carefully glancing around the corner for any sight of someone else. It found none, and turned around to disappear once again. Cassius crept towards the edge of the roof. He was about ten metres away from the funeral service, but after his long time doing things like this, could easily see everything which was going on around him. He raised his wrist and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, huddled further down and stared intently and where he had seen the figure appear.

The figure appeared again, followed by two more, which carried large porcelain containers, with a circular top and steeping sides. They approached the edges of the wall's corner, and the firs figure poked their eyes around into the light. His faced was dark even with the light on it, like ash and soot covered him. His ears pointed behind him and his eyes glowed a ferocious golden-yellow. His features were recognisable as that of a Dark Elf. He stepped out further into the light, revealing dark garments before going further, past the brightened boundaries. The other's followed: a Nordic woman, and an Orc, both in similar clothes. Cassius simply sat and watched as they skulked towards Jorrvaskr, and then around it, to the walls and out of sight.

Cassius stood fully upright - confident he had found his prey – took a deep breath, and rushed across the other rooftops in pursuit. He landed on Jorrvaskr and looked down the mountain, spotting a feint light working its way down it. Cassius loosened his neck and brushed a few strands of hair out the way of his eyes. He stimulated his feet to gain traction, took a step back and leaped high into the air, past the wall, and landed crouched on his feet and hands. He stood up again, observed his quarry more and began to follow them down the mountain.

Cassius had been following the 3 people for about an hour. They had reached a mountain pass and had stopped. The Orc patrolled the area while the others prepared something. Cassius did not approached, but secluded himself behind a tree slightly higher up the mountain, while he patiently watched the movements of all three. The Dark Elf's lips shifted, and the Nord lashed out at him, knocking him back slightly. She turned and yelled to the Orc, who ran over, and dragged one of the pots into the mount ain with the rest of them.

Cassius moved from cover and sat down next to the tree. He steadied his hands behind himself and pushed, coming quickly down the hillside, but stopping himself just before the small cliff which overlooked where the three targets of his were just stood. He jumped down - fists clenched, arms tensed, and legs bend – looked around, but saw no one, and proceeded to the cliff side.

The rock was bare: no moss, insects, or even snow. Cassius ran his fingers across it: the rock was warm and scratched, not the weather beaten stone that should be there. He pushed at it, but it didn't move. He shifted a few feet left and tried again. It did nothing. He moved the other way and pushed again. It budged and revealed a dark cave behind it. Cassius snuck inside, and pushed the rock back into place behind him.

The leather soles of Cassius' boots hid his footsteps as he made his way down the dark tunnel. After a while, he heard muttering ahead of him and stopped. His eyes focused and he crept across to the other side of the tunnel, to look further down. He saw a well lit room with many stone ornaments, with an altar at the far end, surrounded by blood red flags. The three individuals he had followed here were scattered around the room: one near the altar, one next to the containers they had brought, and one next to a table with several objects on it. And in one corner was a small iron cage, with two young children cowering in a corner, locked inside.

Cassius stood up tall and took a deep breath. He poked his head around the corner again, and stepped out into the light. He walked forward, and the Elf noticed him. "Uh… What do you want, Imperial?" He said with shock, grabbing an axe that lay on the table. Cassius did not reply, but only moved forward more. The Elf ran at him, swinging with the axe; but Cassius just pushed him away. Grabbing at the axe, he forced the blade into the stomach of the Elf, knocking him to the floor. Cassius span the axe, as the Orc approached with a hammer, and put it in his neck: the point where the collar joins the spine. The Orc gasped, as the axe cut through his armour like nothing was there, and his eyes flared up when the last ounce of live he had faded.

The Nord women had stood motionless up to now, but proceeded to draw a dagger and charge the Imperial, surround by her fallen comrades. Cassius grabbed her wrist and pushed the blade up, and then smacked the back of the Nord's hand, forcing her own weapons through her eye. She staggered, and then fell like a rock.

Cassius turned to the children, but out of the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of the flags. He stopped and stared at them in disbelief; he had not seen such flags in two hundred years: a banner with a blood red background, adorned with a black fiery Sun: the symbol of the Vampiric Legion.

Cassius snarled at it: his teeth stuck out and his eyes broadened. He spat at the floor beside him, and turned to the bodies, looking for life: he found none. He took the Orc's hammer though, before returning to the children. With one quick and decisive blow, the hammer destroyed the look and the door flung upon. The children – one girl and a younger boy – were both asleep, seemingly exhausted by their ordeal. Cassius reached inside and grabbed the girl, throwing her out of the cage, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it. Cassius pulled her to her feet, and moved her hair to examine her neck: he found nothing, and pushed her to the floor. He did the same to the boy, and found nothing. Cassius took a deep breath, shivering as he exhaled and turned to the children again. "We will wait for morning, and then you can go home." They did not notice.

The Sun had barely risen, but as he had for several days now, Hodlin was already up and sitting outside his house. Three silhouettes faded into view on the horizon. One did not move, but the others rushed forward. Hodlin stood up to greet them, he recognised his grandchildren simply from their shapes. Cassius looked on, turned and walked back onto the long, hard road heading for Solitude.


	5. Chapter 4 - St Vallarus' Night

**Chapter 4 – St Vallarus' Night**

Autumn was setting in across Skyrim and the evenings drew colder and wetter. Outside Solitude the rain pattered down on the hard road and the guards took cover under the battlements. No one had come into town tonight, nor were the guards expecting anyone to: merchants had left to go south for more goods, and workers had no reason to leave; Imperial campaigns settled down for the winter and no soldiers moved out of the holds Capital. The guard on duty in front of the first line of battlements was wet and cold and tired. The wind blew through him and he shivered.

On the road, Cassius appeared: a figure faded into the rain, in his dark attire: hood up and head down. The guard stared in surprise until Cassius got closer, and uttered "Good evening?" The guard expected an explanation of the traveller, but only received a quiet "Evening" in return. The guard kept staring as Cassius made his way to the gates and disappeared into Solitude before he shrugged and turned back to the road, thinking nothing of it, too concerned with his plans when he went off-duty.

Cassius made his way to the Winking Skeaver and looked at the door before entering. Inside, the tavern was badly lit and stank like the sewers beneath. The place was nicely decorated, but some things were out of the owner's hands: the customers for one. In a corner, a wood elf sat happily eating a roast chicken, drinking and laughing, but no one else was nearby. He donned a light brown jacket over unseen clothes, and showed no signs of a weapon. Cassius approached him, and on his way grabbed a chair and dragged it next to the wood elf's table. "Vallarus?" he quizzed; to which the wood elf sprang back in surprise. "You've heard of me?" he said in a proud confidence.

Cassius stared back, "What? Vallarus what are you talking about?" The wood elf looked questionably at the Imperial and his eyebrows clenched as he tried to remember the person. "It's me, Vallarus: Cassius Artora." Cassius' words came out with a sigh, and were returned with hysterical laughter. "Of course it is. I haven't seen you since…" Cassius cut him off.

"Point Dacar. Yes. Can we skip the pleasantries?" Vallarus nodded. "I have a favour to ask. Are there any vampires left in Haafinger?" Vallarus chuckled and retorted that he had killed them all, smugly. "What about the Volkihar?" The wood elf looked disgusted. He straightened himself on his chair.

"There is only so much one wood elf can do." Cassius smiled and continued "I need you, Elf, to get me the keys to Proudspire." Vallarus chuckled and turned to Cassius, asking why he would do that. Cassius arrogantly announced, "I saved your life." To which, the wood elf replied, "I let you." Cassius sneered at him, and Vallarus laughed hysterically. "Alright, I'll get them. But I go in there with you." Cassius nodded and enquired "Aren't you going to ask why?" The wood elf denounced it as he did not care enough, and continued to give Cassius instructions, "Just meet me there tomorrow night."

Proudspire looked glorious in the flashes of lightning and the roars of thunder; the rain gave it excellence and its surroundings dignity and class. Cassius stood concealed from guards' eyes near the entrance, and Vallarus walked confidently down the paved pathway, spinning a key around his finger. "Cassius, I'm too good. Today should be known as 'St Vallarus' Day'." He laughed "In fact I think I'm going to celebrate it every year." He waved his hand as he spoke. "St Vallarus: Wood Elf, Vampire Hunter…" He paused to think. Cassius snapped, "Just open the door Saint."

The elf reached forward with the key and inserted it into the keyhole. He turned it and pushed the door open slowly. They looked inside. Neither could see that well in the little light, but they could make out the walls of the room and a lamp stand in the centre. Vallarus chuckled, "Shall we?"

Cassius sighed and shock his head away from the elf, he then entered. Vallarus followed behind, looking quickly for witnesses and then closing the door behind him. Cassius took out a match and lit the lamp. The pair could see much easier now.


	6. Chapter 5 - Secrets of Proudspire

**Chapter 5 – Secrets in Proudspire**

Cassius and Vallarus stood examining the entry room in Proudspire. It wasn't much to look at: cobwebs, broken furniture and old paintings. The wooden beams between the stone bricks creaked as they made their way around, and a howl billowed through when Vallarus peaked out a window. There seemed to be nothing here, and then Cassius walked towards the stairs examining the side for cracks and distortions. With his counterpart occupied, Vallarus went upstairs to look for more clues for something he was unsure of.

He quickly came back, running down the stairs in excitement, in his hand a pink jewel finely cut so that the failing light gleamed off of it in perfection. Cassius quickly glanced at his smiling face before shrugging it off and returning to the stonework. The wood elf shook in annoyance of the lack of attention and proudly announced, "Look what I found." Cassius' eyes looked up at the jewel, his head however stayed perfectly still. His wide expression questioned what he saw, before he sighed.

"Where did you get that? Hmm?"

Vallarus giggled to himself, and remained adamant in his actions. "Upstairs; in a golden case. It's really nice." Cassius retorted for him to put it back where he found it, to which the wood elf replied negatively. Cassius stopped and stood up. He closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them, snarling ferociously. Vallarus rushed back upstairs and Cassius shock off his encounter.

Cassius' hands had finally trailed along the stones long enough to find a find a significant crack. The vampire unsheathed his dagger and forced it into the gap, triggering something which let out a loud rumble, and unearthed a passage on the other side of the area next to the stairs. Vallarus lit and throw over a torch he had found, which Cassius caught and, in one smooth action, placed in front of the entrance. He turned and gestured for Vallarus to follow, which he did, as Cassius made his way down into the decrepit depths of the hallway.

After several minutes of walking, the pair had reached a large room, ordained with statues, and blossoming fires creeping along the walls. Several collapsed skeletons and weapons dotted around the room. They stopped to hear the echoes of a distance mumbling. Neither could make out the words exactly, but some sort of snivelling creatures were cursing at each other and pushing something heavy about. Cassius passed the torch to Vallarus, and gestured for him to go behind the wall next to the archway leading into the next room on one side, while Cassius made his way to the other.

With his companion safely behind the wall, the wood elf strolled confidently passed him, much to Cassius' surprise, and into the next room, where too figures pushed each other, bickered and grappled with a stone statue of a man holding the sun. Vallarus continued inside and chirpily asked, "Excuse me, gentlemen." The two figures jumped in surprise and turned to him. "You wouldn't happen to have seen any vampires by any chance. You see we're hunting them." The pairs' yellow eyes quizzed him, to which the wood elf happily waved to the empty space next to him, never taking a moment to think about it.

He held onto the sides of his coat with both hands and smiled at the two facing him. One grabbed his sword stood up next to the statue and swung at Vallarus, missing him by at least a foot. The wood elf calmly pushed a hand into his coat, and drew out a crudely made axe, clearly meant to cut wood, and swung violently at the two vampires. The first, who had attacked him with a sword, lost his head instantly, while the other jumped back and only suffered a graze, falling to the floor. Vallarus threw the axe behind him, and then plunged it into the man's back splitting his spine in half, and causing a lot of blood to pour out, some of it trickling beneath the statue.

Cassius ran forward to meet his friend and looked over the dead bodies. The wood elf dropped his axe and moved next to the statue, pushing as hard as he could to move it, but it did not budge. Vallarus kept pushing until he was exhausted, and sat on the floor panting, "It's no use".

Cassius walked past him and to the back wall. His hands grasped a chain and he yanked it down hard. A rumbling awoke and Vallarus felt back as the statue moved revealing a crypt underneath. The wood elf jumped up and stared down it, while Cassius made his way down the blood-splodged stairs and to the sarcophagus. He pushed aside the lid to show an empty stone box, with a few tattered pieces of material that seemed stuck in the stone work. He pushed the lid, forming a crack.

Whatever was in there had gone.


End file.
